Smile for me?
by elliot the nerd
Summary: Norway loved Denmark's idiot tendencies, but, recently, the Dane's smiles have been rare..
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: Hello~ This is just a short drabble I made a while back. Sorry if it doesn't make any sense. ^^; )

He always smiled. Always. Every time you would see him, he'd have that idiotic grin on his face and he'd be talking so loudly. He always seemed so happy-well, he was happy; most of the time, at least. There are some times when I knew that he was forcing himself to smile and laugh so that nobody would notice how pained he truly was. But I never said anything. Instead, I would just sit there, staring blankly at that idiot Dane with his spiky, wild hair and fake smile. The others could see it too-it just wasn't the same as his other happy grins. Yet, nobody ever said anything. They just acted like they didn't know, or they went along with it.

Sometimes I'd get mad at him for smiling so much. It had always aggravated me. I'd always glare at him, asking him why he smiled so stupidly and so much. He's always give me the same answer with a small laugh. "Well, because I don't have any reason not to smile, Norge~" He'd say, flashing me another smile-as if that'd somehow convince me. And then I wouldn't say anything. And he would look away, and I could see that pain in his eyes. Usually, the pain was hidden beneath his grinning face and his loud voice. But I was always able to see it in his eyes. Still, I never said anything. I knew that he had trouble managing his people. He'd go to war and leave me with Finland and Iceland. And then he'd come back, smiling as usual, but not as brightly. It always seemed a lot more tired, worn out, and sad.

No matter how much I hated to admit it, I loved that smile. I loved his laugh, his silly jokes, and feeble attempts at getting me to smile. Sometimes I did, but he never saw. I'd wait until he wasn't looking at me until I smiled. He was one of the only ones that was able to make me smile-even a little bit. To put it simply, I loved that idiot. I loved everything about him: his obnoxiously loud voice, his mindlessness, his bravery..

I'd give _anything_ to get that Denmark back. I've tried. I've smiled at him a few times, but recently, he's just seemed so tired and out-of-it. His eyes are pale now, and there are dark circles underneath them. He's so tall, but he seems so pathetic and small, slouching when he sits and when he stands, flinching at just about everything. He's become distant from the rest of us. Whenever we have a get-together, all Sweden and him do is fight. I'm not sure what's gotten into him recently, but I promise that I will get him back to normal. No matter how long it takes. If it takes centuries of me smiling hopefully at that idiot to get him to smile back, just once, then that's how long I will do it for. Because I love him, and I'll do anything for him.


	2. Chapter 2

As time went by, I worried more and more about Denmark. The smiles were becoming less frequent; much more spaced out than they already were. And whenever he did smile, it was very weak, as if he wasn't even trying. It seemed as if that stupid Dane had completely given up.

And that made me so angry.

I hated seeing him like this, and every time that I would see him so miserable, I couldn't help but get mad at him. "Why don't you smile anymore?" I yelled at him, a few weeks ago. He stood up quickly, and I was afraid that he'd hit me—or worse. However, I felt nothing hit me, and I heard no shattering. Those tired blue eyes looked directly into mine, and the words that he said shattered my heart into pieces.

"Because I don't have any reason to smile, Norway."

His voice was low, and I could hear it crack at the end of the sentence. Afterwards, he had averted his eyes and sat back down, slumping against the ugly green sofa pathetically. I looked at him, wondering how such a strong and powerful nation could become so tiny and fragile.

I didn't realize that I had been crying until Iceland pointed it out to me later on.

A few weeks passed and nothing was getting any better. Denmark spent most of the time locked away in his room alone or talking with the leader of his country. However, I noticed something changing. I couldn't tell exactly what it was, but something bad was happening. Soon, I realized that Denmark's mere existence was becoming very weak.

Sometimes, he'd walk into the room, and nobody would notice him until they would accidentally bump into him. Whenever he talked, his voice sounded very faint and far away, and he seemed to be almost translucent. I ignored this for a long time, telling myself that he'd be alright because 'he's Denmark'.

But he didn't.

And, one day, I found him in his room, in a fetal position, crying. Concerned, I had kneeled down beside him, asking him what was wrong over and over, but he wouldn't respond. He just wrapped his arms around me and sobbed, but, aside form his faint figure, it was as if he wasn't there at all; I could barely feel him. It was then when I realized what was happening.

Denmark, as a personification, was dying.

I panicked, and I grabbed him by his shoulders, frantically asking him what I should do. He simply shook his head in return, his sobs slowly dying down. And then, he just looked at me. He looked into my eyes, and I could feel tears running down my cheeks. I could barely feel his hand on my face and he smiled weakly as he wiped away the tears that stained my cheeks.

I realized then that I couldn't do anything. Denmark was going to be gone-possibly forever-and I couldn't do a single thing to help him. I was completely and utterly useless. I held him tightly for a while, crying into his shoulder. And all too soon, he had disappeared, and I was alone, sitting on the floor with my arms tightly wrapped around myself.

I'll have to sit alone, watching as the nation of Denmark crumbles. I'll sit alone, trying to take care of both the remains of Denmark's country and my own. I'll sit alone, waiting for him to come back—for him to return, with that stupid bright grin of his, and become powerful again. And when that happens, I'll help him along.

And I'll smile back at him—brighter than I've ever smiled before.


	3. Chapter 3

_**haha hi im here bc people are following this still so here u go :)**_

It's been two years since Denmark disappeared. Denmark-his country, his personification, his smile...

I've been struggling to hold myself up. My country's people have begun to lose hope and give up. I've grown so much weaker these past few months. Nothing has gone right since he's been gone.

The others aren't doing too well, either-Finland, Sweden, and Iceland. They're all too busy trying to support themselves to help me, much less Denmark's broken remains. I don't blame them, honestly. In a world that's crumbling, all you can do is support yourself.

Which is probably why I'm dying.

With the stress of holding Denmark up, as well as the stress from my own country's problems, i'm getting weaker by the day. I can feel simple everyday tasks getting harder and harder, and it's hard to function. Looking back on it, I can remember Denmark behaving similarly, soon before he died.

Now, I sit in the room where I held him two years ago, leaning against the wall and wondering where i went wrong. I started out just like any other country did. I slowly worked my way up into becoming an actual, stable nation. I was happy, and I had friends; I had Denmark.

But now, that's all gone. I smile up at the ceiling, trying to hold my tears back as I let a shaky smile spread across my face. All that I can think about is his face. His voice. His smile. His laugh, and how i didn't appreciate him enough while he was here.

I let out a tearful laugh, shaking my head as my head lolls to the side slowly. My eyes move to the floor, where i try to focus my attention. It's hard to do that, even.

I smile warmly, and it takes all my energy to do so. I whisper a quiet apology as my eyes close and I take my final breath.

I never got to smile back.

_**ok now im done**_


End file.
